


It's Not A Vacation Until You Shoot Someone

by Keziah



Series: This Isn't Normal, Is It? [1]
Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Canon Divergence, F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-07
Updated: 2015-03-07
Packaged: 2018-03-16 19:01:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3499412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keziah/pseuds/Keziah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gen needs somewhere to go for summer vacations. Shaw needs to leave the country. Harold has an idea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Eye Spy

**Author's Note:**

> This is canon compliant through most of season 4. In this universe, Samaritan is destroyed and Shaw rescued in the season 4 finale.

“You want me to WHAT?”

Harold swiveled in his chair to face Sameen Shaw directly. She was standing alongside the old subway car, throwing darts at a battered dart board. Said dart board had been brand new two days ago. Even though she was glaring at Harold, her last dart slammed precisely into the board, finishing the ‘S’ shape made of her earlier darts.

Harold carefully repeated himself. “I want you to leave the country. Just for a while, until this trouble with the authorities dies down. We may no longer be the focus of a secret government organization, but you are still on the police wanted list. There is only so much Lionel and John can do while you are still here making trouble.”

“So you want me to go where? And do what?”

“Well, Miss Zhirova has summer vacations soon. I thought maybe you could take her on a tour of Europe.”

“You’d trust me to take care of the kid?”

“You did an admirable job of it the first time.”

“What about the numbers?”

“There are others who are capable of handling the numbers.”

“Like who?”

“Mr. Reese, Detective Fusco, Detective Silva, Ms. Morgan. Even Ms. Groves, if she is available.”

Shaw scowled.

Harold continued. “It would a great help to Miss Zhirova, and we will do our best to get you back soon.”

Her scowl deepened, but Shaw finally grunted out. “Fine. I’ll go.”

 

\----------

 

The next day, Harold stood at the front of the boarding school, scanning the faces of the exiting students for his ward, Genrika Zhirova. A voice behind him announced her presence. “Hello, Harold.”

He turned, smiling faintly. “Hello, Miss Zhirova. How are you today?”

“Fine.” She stared at him. “What are you doing here?”

“It is the start of summer vacations, is it not?”

“Yeah.”

“Well then.” He looked rather pleased with himself.

“You’re here to take me on vacation?”

“Unfortunately, I am unable to leave the city right now. However, Ms. Shaw is also on vacation at the moment. I suggested she take you to Europe and she seemed quite keen on the idea. So here we are.” He smiled down at the young girl.

Gen grinned in response. “Shaw is taking me to Europe? For how long?”

“That is still to be determined.”

“When are we leaving?”

“As soon as you are packed.”

“I’m already packed.”

“Indeed?”

“Always have a go-bag with all the essentials ready, so you can leave as quickly as possible.”

“I see.” Harold turned and gestured her towards the dorms. “Let us go fetch it, then.”

They slowly made their way to the dorms, Gen matching his pace. “How are you liking school?” Harold queried.

Gen shrugged. “School is interesting; I’m learning a lot.”

“Oh? What are you learning?”

“Well, the usual. English, Algebra, History. Also that a structured schedule is so much easier to work around when you’re spying. It only took me a week to bug the teacher’s lounge. And that hacking is harder than it looks.”

Harold paused. “Perhaps I can help you with that?”

“Really?” Gen furrowed her forehead. “You don’t disapprove?”

“I can hardly disapprove of something I do on a regular basis. And you have significant potential in the field of espionage. It would be a sin to not encourage you to develop your talents.”

Gen suddenly threw her arms around him. “You’re the best!”

Harold smiled, cautiously patting her on her back.

 

They reached the doors to the dorm and Gen ran in to grab her bag while Harold waited outside. In a few short moments, she came running back out. She had changed out of her school uniform and was carrying a small duffel.

“Is there anyone you wish to say goodbye to?” Harold asked. “You may be gone for a few months.”

“No, I’m good.” Gen replied.

“Very well. My car is over there.”

They drove back into the city, parking a few blocks away from the subway entrance. As they walked to the entrance, Harold turned to Gen. “Miss Zhirova, I know you are a discreet young lady, however, I implore you to not speak of this location to anyone. And, please, be very careful to be unobserved when you come here.”

Gen quickly nodded her agreement. As soon as they got through the gate, she turned to Harold. “This. is. SO. COOL.”

Shaw looked up at Gen’s excited exclamation. “Hey, kid.”

“Hey, Shaw! Hey, Bear!” Bear trotted up eagerly and Gen bent down to rub behind his ears.

Harold set his keys on the desk and turned around. “Are you packed, Ms. Shaw?”

Shaw pointed to a duffel, slightly larger than Gen’s, sitting on the subway seats next to her.

“Excellent. Your flight leaves this evening.”

 

\----------

 

They left the subway separately, Shaw going first and taking the motorcycle Root had left after one of her visits. Harold and Gen went together and took Harold’s car to the airport. Shaw met Gen on the other side of security. They were traveling together, but not officially, since Gen was traveling under her name and Shaw was using an alias. Gen bounced on the balls of her feet all the way through the airport, bounced in her seat on the flight to London (until Shaw told her to settle down and sleep), and bounced through customs.

Between the length of the plane ride, the time difference, and the bureaucracy required with anything international, it was late afternoon the next day when they finally got out of the airport.

Gen stepped out of the airport and spun around. “This is so amazing. I want to see everything!”

Shaw nodded. “Sure, kid.”

Gen turned to look at her. “I bet you’ve seen it all before, haven’t you?”

“No. My work didn’t take me to many tourists spots.”

“That’s great!”

Shaw raised an eyebrow.

“That means we can see all those places together!” Gen explained.

Shaw looked at Gen. “Let’s drop our stuff off at a hotel first.”

They made their way (via two taxis, the tube, and lots of backtracking) to a small, out of the way hotel where the proprietor barely gave them a glance and they paid in cash. Gen nodded approvingly. “Can’t be traced.”

“And can’t be found.” Shaw replied.

They dropped their bags in their room, and Gen turned to Shaw. “Can we start with the London Eye? I want a good vantage point to get a feel for the area. If I’ve followed where we are correctly, it’s not that far. We could walk!”

Shaw shrugged. “Sounds good.”

 

Some minutes later they were walking along the banks of the Thames. Well, Shaw was walking, Gen was dashing from the rail by the water to the buildings to peer in windows then back to the rail to peer into the water again. The London Eye was still a ways off, but neither of them minded the exercise. As Gen dashed past Shaw on one of her excursions she pushed a note into her hand. Shaw quirked an eyebrow, but read it discreetly.

_Someone is watching you. I don’t think they’ve noticed me. Draw her off onto that street up there and I’ll come up behind her._

Shaw smirked a little. Trust Gen to notice someone watching them. She casually made her way to the next street and turned down it, ducking into a doorway to watch the people coming around the corner.

She barely had time to register that one of those people was Root when Gen stepped up and held a knife to Root’s kidney. “Why were you following Shaw?” the young girl demanded.

Root spun out of Gen’s reach and pulled a gun on her. Well, she tried to. As soon as Root turned around, Shaw grabbed the hand holding a gun, pointing it downwards, and wrapped an arm around Root’s torso, pinning Root’s other arm to her side. Root relaxed into it, obviously knowing who it was who was grabbing her.

“Why hello to you too, sweetie.” Root murmured, sliding her fingers across Shaw’s leg (the only part of her in reach). “Who’s the apprentice?” She nodded at Gen, who was scowling and still holding the knife protectively. Gen looked at Shaw around Root’s body.

Shaw sighed. “Put the knife away, Gen. She’s all right. And what did I tell you about threatening people?” As Shaw spoke she released Root and stepped forward so she was between the woman and girl. Root adjusted her coat, the gun disappearing as she did so.

Gen slowly put her knife away. “You told me only to threaten people if I can make good on the threat. But I’ve been practicing! I’m really good with a knife now!”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

Gen sighed. “Okay. But what about her? You know her? Why was she following you?”

In response, Shaw looked at Root.

Root smiled. “I wanted to make sure you weren’t busy with something. We would both be very unhappy if I compromised an operation.” She looked at Gen. “You must be quite good, to spot me. Who are you?”

“Who are you?” Gen retorted.

Root turned to Shaw, with a smile. “Sameen. Won’t you introduce us?”

“What, She didn’t tell you?”

“You know She likes me to figure things out on my own. Especially now.”

“So figure it out.”

“Pretty please, Sameen?” Root batted her eyelashes.

Gen flicked her eyes between the two women, absorbing every word or the conversation.

Shaw glared for a minute, then relented. “Fine. Gen, this is Root. I . . . work with her. Root, this is Gen. I’m taking her on a tour of Europe.”

Root pouted. “You’re taking her on a tour of Europe and you didn’t invite me?”

Shaw rolled her eyes. “What are you doing here, Root?”

“I just took care of a small terrorist cell.” Root reached forward and tucked a stray hair behind Shaw’s ear. “She told me you were in the area, so I thought I would stop by and say hi.”

Shaw frowned. “She told you voluntarily? You didn’t ask?”

Root raised her eyebrows, smiling slightly.

Gen took that moment to interrupt. “How long have you two worked together?”

“A few years.” Shaw replied.

“Okay. And how long have you been dating?”

Shaw glared even fiercer than before. “We’re not dating. I don’t do relationships.”

Root grinned broadly. “Whatever you say, honey.”

Shaw shook her head. “Come on, Gen.” She stalked off down the street towards the London Eye. Root fell into step beside Gen, looking down at the girl curiously. “You two seem pretty close. How did you meet?”

“Shaw saved me.”

Root nodded. “That’s what she does.”

Gen turned her penetrating gaze on Root. “How did you two meet? Did Harold hire you too?”

“No, I don’t work for Harold.” Root chuckled. “We work in the same business though, and occasionally coordinate on missions.”

“Oh.” Gen accepted it easily. “If it wasn’t work, then what was it?”

“I tased her while pretending to be a psychologist, then kidnapped Harold. She shot me when she came to rescue him. It just got better from there.”

Gen looked suspiciously at Root. “I’m not sure I should believe you, but whatever. Who told you we were here?”

Root thought for a minute. “My . . . boss.”

“And she knows who I am?”

“She knows who everyone is.”

Gen frowned. “What’s wrong?” Root asked. If Sameen cared about this girl (and it was obvious to Root that Sameen did), Root didn’t want to upset her.

“How am I supposed to be a good spy if people know who I am?”

Root smiled. Gen was practically a Shaw mini-me. “You don’t need to worry about that. She knows you want to be unknown. I mean, She wouldn’t even tell _me_ about you.”

“You guys coming?” Shaw had turned and was waiting for them up ahead.

Gen nodded, and ran off to look at another building up ahead. Shaw began walking again as Root drew even with her. They walked in silence for a few moments, both alert for any threats. Root was eyeing a fellow that was just a little too close to Gen when she felt a slight tug. Shaw had looped her arm through Root’s, pulling the two women closer together. Root glanced down at Shaw, who was carefully looking the other way. Root went back to scanning the area for threats, enjoying the feel of Shaw’s arm in hers. “Gen seems like a precocious young lady.” she finally ventured.

Shaw smiled. “She spotted me following her when we first met.”

Root laughed. “Really?”

“Really.” Shaw smiled slightly, remembering their first meeting. “She’d bugged her apartment building. The whole building, right. With a tape recorder. She managed to record HR making a deal with the Russians, which was fine until the Russians found the recording equipment. That’s why her number came up. John and I followed her until she spotted me, then the Russians kidnapped her. We got her back. When that was all dealt with, Harold put her in a boarding school. Got her away from that scum cousin of hers.” Shaw smiled even more. “I gave him a good beating.”

Root absorbed the story, determining to get the full details from the machine. “She spotted you without any training?”

“She’s a natural. Hadn’t had any training at all.”

“And since then?”

“I may have given her a few suggestions now and then.” The corner of Shaw’s mouth twitched. “And some fighting lessons. Harold was not happy about that, but he eventually caved.”

“What changed his mind?”

“The last time he got called to the principal’s office about her ‘extracurricular’ activities. He came back and told me to make sure she’s prepared for anything because no matter what he does she’s bound to get into trouble anyway.”

 

The group of spies reached the Eye without any more trouble. Gen found the two women as they joined the line. “There’s a security check. No weapons of any kind. What am I supposed to do with my knife?”

“All weapons? Even tasers?” Root asked.

“They mentioned that one specifically.” Gen told her.

“What’s the security look like?” Shaw asked.

“Like the airport.”

“All right.” Shaw pulled them out of the line and towards the nearby buildings, ducking into a doorway. “Give me your knife, Gen, and anything else you have on you that they won’t like. And Root? Your guns and tasers.”

“What are you going to do with them?” Gen asked.

“I’ll take them back to the hotel.” Shaw explained, tucking Gen’s knife into her pocket. She turned to Root, “Root? Come on, hand ‘em over.”

“You’re serious.” Root said.

“Yeah. It’s easier than sneaking them through.”

“And if we get into trouble?”

“Please. There are more than enough cameras around here to avoid any trouble. Besides, I’ll be switching our weapons for something that can make it through security without setting off lots of obnoxious alarms.”

Root reluctantly handed over her side bag and began pulling guns out of her clothes. Shaw tucked the truly astounding collection of weapons away, and set off at a quick walking pace. Root watched her out of sight. She turned to Gen to see the young girl looking at her knowingly. “You really like her.”

“Yes.” Root admitted. “I do.”

“I think she likes you too.”

“Yes, I think she does.”

 

Shaw returned soon. She handed a ceramic knife to Gen and a plastic gun to Root. Root raised her eyebrows. “Where did you get this?”

“I convinced Harold to buy a 3D printer.”

They secreted the weapons away and rejoined the line. The line moved quickly, and Root bought their tickets. Shaw went through security first. Root nodded to Gen. “Your turn.” Gen looked up at Root, biting her lip. “You sure they won’t find it?”

“Yeah, it’ll be fine. Watch this.” Root turned to the guard at the checkpoint. “Excuse me, sir, could you help me with my coat? I can’t seem to get it off.”

“Certainly ma’am.”

“Oh don’t ma’am me!” Root said, giggling slightly and putting her hand on the guard’s arm. “I don’t feel old enough for that.”

“Just policy.” The guard said.

Root glanced to Gen, who was walking through the metal detector, still biting her lip. “Say,” she moved closer to the guard and ran her hands up his jacket. “you’re pretty cute. Can I give you my number?”

The guard stepped back. “No, ma’am. You may not give me your number. Now, if you’ll please walk through the metal detector? You’re holding up the line.” Root gave a small pout but turned and walked through the detector, flouncing just a little. The guard on the other side handed her her coat and gestured to the capsule. “Enjoy your ride.” Root joined Shaw, who was glaring, and Gen, who was smiling. “There. He didn’t notice a thing, did he?”

Gen laughed. “No, he didn’t.” As soon as they were in the capsule and the door closed behind them, Shaw grabbed Root’s arm. Root turned to her. Shaw glared for a few seconds, her jaw tightening, then finally grunted out “Mine.” and strode to the opposite end of the capsule, where Gen had her face pressed against the glass.

Root smiled softly; a smile far more genuine than the one offered to the guard moments earlier. She wove through the other occupants and came up behind Shaw, wrapping her arms around Shaw’s waist and pulling the woman close. Root whispered into Shaw’s ear. “All yours.”

 

They rode in silence for a while, until Shaw turned her head back, looking up at Root. “Since when has She given you international numbers?”

“Since She gained access to international security feeds.”

“What, She’s trying to prevent terrorism everywhere?”

“She’s trying to protect people. That is Her purpose. She sends the relevant numbers to the appropriate organization for each country, now that Samaritan is gone, but still needs me to take care of the occasional urgent problem.”

“And the irrelevant numbers?”

“She also sends me to take care of the linchpin irrelevant numbers.”

“Linchpin?”

“The events that, if not prevented, would cause a cascading bout of trouble.”

“What about the other irrelevants? You can’t do them all.”

“No. I can’t.” Root tightened her grip on Shaw.

Shaw turned back to look out the window. “Is there anyone I can shoot for you?”

Root relaxed, dropping a kiss onto the top of Shaw’s head. “Not right now, thank you.”

 

Gen, who had been very carefully not listening to their conversation, (well, okay, she had been listening, but it sounded like a bunch of mushy sweet talk, except for that bit about terrorism and linchpin numbers that she was so going to follow up on later. Anyway she pretended she wasn’t listening because what spy admits that?), interrupted.

“Look! Buckingham Palace!” She pointed out of the window at the beautiful building.

“Want to go?” Shaw asked.

“Yeah!”

“I bet I could get us a VIP tour.” Root mused. “As long as no one recognizes me.”

Shaw looked up eagerly. “What’d you do?”

“Oh, nothing really. Just a minor assassination.”

“A minor assassination?” Gen looked at Root, her eyebrows raised.

“It was before I found Her.” Root assured Gen. “I’m reformed.”

Shaw sniggered a little. Root hastily changed the subject. “I’ll get us a tour for tomorrow.”

 

As they descended from the London Eye, Shaw nudged Gen. “Where do you want to go next?”

“I don’t know. There are too many options!”

“If I may offer a suggestion?” Root answered.

Gen and Shaw turned towards her, with identical expectant looks on their faces. “Knowing Shaw, and what I’ve learned about you, Gen, neither of you have anything quite appropriate to wear for a VIP tour of Buckingham Palace. We still have a couple hours at least before shops close, so why don’t we go get some clothes?”

Shaw glowered, but Gen perked up. “What kind of clothes?”

“Nice ones.” Root said. “Expensive ones. And don’t worry, Sameen,” she continued, turning towards Shaw and stepping forward to brush up against her. “I know your size . . . intimately . . . so you can wait outside if you want.”

Shaw huffed. “Just make sure I can hide a gun in it.”

Root drew back, faking being offended. “As if I would ever ask you to go unarmed!”


	2. Eat. Fight. Sleep. Repeat.

Three stores and far too many fawning attendants for Shaw’s happiness later, Root handed a dress suit to Shaw. “It should fit, but try it on, just to be sure. I want you to have all the _flexibility_ you need.” Root winked.

Shaw rolled her eyes and grabbed the clothes. She stomped into the closest changing room and quickly stripped. She pulled the suit on. It fit very well. Even with the jacket on, she had a full range of motion in her arms. The jacket was fitted, but loose, and flared slightly around her hips, giving plenty of space to either wear a shoulder holster or tuck a couple guns into her waistband or both. Shaw glanced at herself in the mirror. She looked hot too, which was a bonus. She nodded in approval and pulled the suit off, carefully settling it on the hangers. She had just pulled on her pants when Root barged into Shaw’s dressing room.

Shaw glared at her. “That was locked.”

“Please, sweetie, as if that would stop me.”

“What do you want?”

“We have a number!” Root announced excitedly. She leaned in close to Shaw. “Want to go make some trouble with me?” she murmured into Shaw’s ear, running a finger down the other woman’s bare arm.

Shaw rolled her eyes and pulled her shirt on. “What about Gen? We can’t just leave her here.”

“She says to bring her.” Root straightened up and paused. “Really?” Shaw figured the last bit was not directed at her, so she stayed quiet.

Root frowned. “Are you sure about this?”

A short pause. “I don’t want her to get hurt; she’s only a child.”

Another, longer, pause. “I know I was younger than she is, but I’m not exactly a good role model!”

. . . “So she got the drop on me once.”

. . . “I know Shaw is more than capable of taking care of her, you don’t have to list her excellent qualities or superb skill set to _me_.”

. . . “You need Gen? For what?”

. . . “If anything happens to her, Shaw is going to kill me and then where would you be?”

. . . “You would go to HAROLD?!”

. . . “Yes, I know he’s an admin, but . . .”

. . . “You know what, fine. She’s coming. But don’t think this conversation is over!”

Root glared at the wall, then turned to Shaw.

Shaw shrugged. “Hey Gen, want to go save someone’s life?”

Gen immediately appeared in the doorway. “Yes! Do I get a gun?”

“No!” Shaw and Root answered simultaneously.

“You were listening, weren’t you.” Shaw said.

Gen looked her straight in the eyes. “No.”

Shaw smiled. “Good. Always listen in, never admit it.”

“We need to give Gen the talk.” Root said, as she collected the clothes they had tried on and ushered them towards the register. “She said it would facilitate the mission, anyway.”

Gen hastily responded. “Uh, I’ve had the talk. My teacher was so embarrassed he went all red like a tomato.”

“Not that talk, thank goodness.” Root smiled. “The talk about Her.” They all fell silent as Root paid for their new clothes. Once they were back on the street, Shaw began explaining. “So, the person Root was yelling at just now is actually an AI.”

“She’s a goddess, Sameen.”

“Whatever. Harold built her, she became independent, and now she knows basically everything. Well, everything that a security camera or phone tap knows.”

“Any security camera? Anywhere?” Gen asked.

Shaw smiled proudly. “Those are the right questions kid.”

“Yes.” Root said.

Gen nodded. “So she knows everything. What does she do?”

Root continued. “She protects people. Only she can’t do anything physical because she’s an intelligence without a body, so she uses us.”

“Okay.”

“You’re taking this pretty well.” Root said.

Gen shrugged. “It’s exactly what every sci-fi book has been predicting for years.”

Root blinked. Opened her mouth. Closed her mouth. Looked at Gen.

Gen looked back. “What? I read a lot of sci-fi. And spy fiction. There isn’t much else to do at school.”

Shaw chuckled briefly. “Well, she seems to have a handle on things.”

Root collected her thoughts. “Shaw, just how much have you taught her about espionage?”

Shaw smiled proudly. “Told you she’s a natural.”

“So.” Gen interrupted. “Are we going to go save someone?”

Root nodded. “Yes, but we need to find out who it is first. She just gives me a number, or sometimes a name. I have to find out who they are, where they are, and what the problem is on my own. She prefers it that way.”

“How do you figure that out?”

Root smiled. “Hacking, usually.”

“Good old fashioned recon works too.” Shaw put in.

Root stopped suddenly. “Ah, here we are.” She opened the door to a pub and ushered the others in.

Shaw brightened. “Dinner! Excellent.”

“I thought you might be hungry by now.” Root murmured.

As they sat down at a table and looked at the menus, Root turned to Shaw. “Any suggestions, Sameen?”

“Suggestions?”

“I’ve never been to London before, and I want a food recommendation.”

“You’ve never been to London? How’d you pick this place?”

“She told me it’s one of the highest recommended eateries in the area.” Root paused, smiling. “I did spend some time in Ireland. The IRA is so much fun. You would not believe what you can turn into explosives.”

Shaw grunted, but pointed out a couple items on the menu. “Pies tend to be pretty good. And I usually like the lamb.”

They were served surprisingly quickly, for such a busy pub. Gen wasn’t sure if it was the glare Shaw had or the even scarier smile Root had that sped up the service. Shaw ate quietly, enjoying her food with the singleness that she did. Gen talked enthusiastically about her favorite authors (Timothy Zahn, Andre Norton, and Isaac Asimov), hacking, and photography. Root listened carefully to Gen, occasionally explaining something about computers or asking about the books she mentioned.

“Who is your favorite author?” Gen eventually asked.

“I don’t read much.” Root admitted. “But I will try Andre Norton. She sounds interesting.”

As they neared the end of the meal Root quietly ordered a glass of scotch, neat, for Shaw and a custard for Gen. Shaw smiled in appreciation when the waiter placed the glass in front of her. Gen happily dug into the custard, then demanded they all try a bite.

 

It was well dark when they exited the pub. Gen led the way back to the hotel.

“You know the way?” Shaw asked.

“Yup! I memorized a map of London on the plane.” Gen confidently strode down the street.

Root and Shaw followed slowly, their shoulders brushing with each step. Gen paused at an intersection, visualizing the map, trying to remember which turn to take. A man stepped out from a shadowed corner, and grabbed Gen. “What have we here?” he leered.

“A bad idea.” Gen told him firmly. “You really should let me go before you get beat up.”

“Wha . . .” he didn’t even have time to finish the word before Shaw pulled his head back and kicked him in the back of the knee. He collapsed to the ground, fortunately letting go of Gen. He reached for his waistband, trying to pull out the gun stuffed in his pants, but Shaw grabbed one arm and twisted it behind him, wrenching him to his feet, her other hand still firmly pulling his head back. Root stepped in front of the unfortunate thug and grabbed the other arm, bending a few fingers. He yelped. Root bared her teeth in a facsimile of a smile. “You don’t touch her. No one here touches her. You might want to tell your buddies that.”

“What?” he managed to gasp out.

Root rolled her eyes and spoke slowly. “This girl does not get touched. She does not get hurt or robbed or conned. Not that you could con her if you tried, but you’re not going to try.” She moved closer, reaching down and pulling the gun from his waistband. She drew it across the man’s face, eventually resting it right under his adam’s apple. “Do you understand me?”

He gulped. “Sure.”

“Good. Now go tell all your friends.” Root stepped back, releasing his hand. Shaw turned him and gave him a shove into the nearby wall. They watched as he scrambled off.

“You all right, Gen?” Shaw asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You weren’t worried.” Root observed.

“Course not.”

“But you were worried about security at the Eye?” Root bent her head slightly.

“If I get arrested for taking a knife onto one of the most public places in London, that goes on my record. My real record, because that’s the ID I have on me. I go to jail, I can’t join the military, I can’t become a spy. A big problem. A thug comes by with Shaw around? That’s not a problem at all. I’ve seen her beat up thugs before.” Gen pointed down the street. “This way.” And she set off towards their hotel.

Root laughed. “I like her.” Shaw gave a small smile.

 

They entered the back door of the hotel and got up to their room without anyone seeing them. Root walked in like she belonged there. Gen flopped into the chair and looked at Root. “You’re staying here? Where’s your suitcase?”

In reply, Root waved her hand languidly towards the side bag dumped next to door.

Gen nodded. “She has a smaller go-bag than you, Shaw.”

“She doesn’t carry a rifle or medical equipment.” Shaw retorted, opening her bag and spreading a cloth on the floor. Root pulled off her shoes and settled down on a bed, opening her laptop. “Let’s see who this new number is. Want to make any bets?”

“Victim.” Shaw said, pulling a handgun out of her bag. “10 bucks.”

“Gen?”

“What?” Gen looked between them, her forehead scrunched.

“We’re betting whether the number we were given is going to be the perpetrator of violent crime or the victim of violent crime.”

“Oh!” Her face cleared. “I bet ten bucks he’s a victim.”

“And I bet 20 he’s a perp.” Root smiled happily and began hacking the government’s records.

Gen looked over to Shaw, who was taking apart the handgun. “Can you show me how to do that?”

Shaw looked pleased. “Sure. And when we’re done with this number I’ll take you to a gun range and you can learn to shoot.”

 

\----------

 

“Hey sweetie? What identities did you bring with you?” Root asked suddenly.

“Um.” Shaw reached over and opened a pocket in her bag. She pulled out a number of passports and started flipping through them. “Renée Royce, Kate Reed, Dani Reese, Carmen Morales, Constance Welch.”

“Any of them work as a bodyguard?”

“Dani Reese was a cop. You could probably tweak her history to make her a bodyguard.”

“Perfect. And Gen’s identities?”

“Her real one, Jennifer Wren, and Jessica Crane. All students.”

“I have aliases?” Gen asked, surprised.

“That’s what happens when you spend time with people like us.”

“Cool.”

“Pass me Dani Reese and Jessica Crane?” Root held out her hand and Shaw tossed her the appropriate papers. Root immediately began to fine tune the identities. Gen and Shaw put together the last of the guns and tucked them neatly into the bag. Shaw glanced at the clock. “All right, kiddo. Bed time.”

Gen nodded, going to her suitcase and pulling out a pair of pajamas. “What’s the plan for tomorrow?”

“We’ll start with Parliament and then go to Buckingham Palace.” Root answers.

“We’re still going to Buckingham Palace?”

“Our number will be in the same tour we will be in. Or so She says.”

“Okay.” Gen went into the bathroom to change. Shaw rummaged in her bag and pulled out a tank top and a pair of basketball shorts. As she changed, she looked over to Root, who was still busy on her laptop. “Are you going to go to bed?”

“I still have some background to build.”

“Don’t stay up too late. You need your sleep.”

Root nodded distractedly, typing away. Gen came in and climbed into the empty bed. “Goodnight Shaw. Goodnight Root.”

“Goodnight.” the two women chorused. Shaw went into the bathroom and brushed her teeth. When she came out, the room was dark, except for the glow of Root’s laptop. She nudged Root’s feet and the woman scooted over so Shaw could crawl under the covers.

Shaw fell asleep quickly, but woke again at three in the morning when her phone buzzed with a text. She looked at it blearily.

_she needs to sleep_

Sighing, Shaw rolled over. “Root?”

“Mm?”

“Go to bed.”

“Mmhm.” Root was still focused intently on whatever it was she was doing.

Shaw shook her head. She sat up and gently pulled the laptop from Root’s hands. “Bed.”

Root blinked. “I need that!”

“Right now you need sleep more.”

“Honey." Root smiled, tilting her head to the side. "I’m fine.”

“You are not fine. Even the machine is telling you to sleep.”

“What?”

Shaw shoved the phone in Root’s face. “Who else would this be from?”

“Oh.” Root grinned. “Sorry?”

“Whatever. Just go to sleep.”


	3. Well, Shoot

Gen was the first one awake the next morning. She looked over at the other bed. Shaw was sprawled on her back, one hand tucked behind her head, the other wrapped around Root. Root was curled into Shaw’s side, her head on the other woman’s shoulder. Gen smiled. “Not dating. Sure.” She went to the bathroom, showered, and put on her clothes from the day before. She opened the door quietly and peeked out. Shaw was awake, gently running her hand along Root’s back.

Gen mouthed to Shaw. “I’m going to go get breakfast.”

Shaw mouthed back. “Take a knife and your phone. There’s cash in my bag.”

Root woke to the click of the door closing behind Gen. She craned her neck up to look at Shaw. “Good morning sweetie.” In response, Shaw bent down and kissed her deeply, then untangled herself from Root’s arms and got out of bed.

“What was that for?” Root asked.

“Because Gen is getting breakfast.” Shaw explained. “I’m going to shower, then we need to eat and get going.”

“Hmm. It would be faster if I showered with you.” Root offered.

“Are you sure about that?” Shaw smirked.

 

\----------

 

When Gen got back from her excursion, Shaw was double checking that her holsters fit under her dress jacket, and Root was carefully applying makeup in front of the bathroom mirror. “I brought breakfast.” Gen said, hoisting a bag of muffins and two cups of coffee. Shaw immediately dropped her gun on the bed and took the bag and a cup from Gen. “Mmmm.”

Gen took the other coffee to Root. “Here you go.”

“Thank you very much.”

“Sure.” Gen shifted from one foot to the other. Root met her eyes in the mirror and quirked an eyebrow. Gen spoke all in a rush. “Would you mind helping me with my makeup and clothes? I don’t get much practice because I wear school uniforms most of the time, and none of the other girls really hang out with me much so I can’t ask them about makeup and Shaw doesn’t really wear it, and while Harold has great fashion sense, I think he thinks I’m too young still, or something . . .” Gen trailed off, ducking her head.

Root smiled. “I would love to help you, Gen.”

 

When they left the hotel, there was a limo waiting for them. As they rode, Root quickly briefed them on the mission. “Gen, you are Jessica Crane, daughter of the reclusive billionaire Harold Crane. I am Beatrice Bering, a lawyer / nanny / person of all uses that’s taking you on a tour of Europe for summer vacations. Shaw, you are Dani Reese, Jessica’s bodyguard. ‘Mr. Crane’ has arranged for us to have tours of all the interesting stuff. Our number is Gerald Brown, an aide and translator for Mr. Lee, a dignitary who will be getting the same VIP treatment as us.”

“Okay.” Gen said. “Do I need to act any way in particular as Jessica?”

“Just be yourself.” Shaw said.

“Perhaps not talk about espionage though.” Root quickly added. “And remember to call us by our aliases.”

They reached the Houses of Parliament quickly, and were greeted by a charming aide. He even bowed to Gen as he let her in. Root was next, and she went to stand next to Gen, who was looking at the first display. Root smiled a little when she heard the slight argument at the door when it was Shaw’s turn to enter.

Root came over. “What’s the problem?”

Shaw schooled her expression and voice. “I’m sorry, Ms. Bering, but they want me to give up my weapons, and I feel that would compromise my ability to protect Miss Crane, as well as yourself.”

Root cocked her head as she listened to the Machine, appearing to think about it. “I see.” She eventually said. Refocusing on Shaw she continued. “I don’t think you’ll need them here. I’m sure, if there is any incident, the security here will be able to handle it. Besides, your hand to hand combat skills are more than proficient and we will be in close quarters.”

“Fine.” Shaw said, and allowed the guard to take her guns. Even the one in her ankle holster. She kept the knife in her boot.

They were joined by a couple other influential people (and entourages). Introductions were made all around and everybody made much of Gen, who easily relaxed into her role as a curious student (not so far from the truth after all). Root made polite conversation with the other adults, particularly the one their number worked for, and Shaw lurked in the back, keeping an eye on everyone. Eventually, their number came up and tried to make conversation. “Hello.”

Shaw glanced at him, then looked away, scanning the room. “Hello.”

“Who are you here with?”

“I’m Miss Crane’s bodyguard.” Shaw answered, nodding at Gen, who was deep in conversation with their guide about how _exactly_ the British government functioned. Their number smiled. “Miss Crane? Isn’t it a bit unusual for a child to have a bodyguard?”

Shaw shrugged. “Tell that to the last guy I shot.”

He laughed. “I’m Gerald.” He held out his hand. “Aide and occasional translator for Mr. Lee.”

Shaw looked at his hand for moment, then shook it. “Dani Reese.”

“Do you like your work?” Gerald asked.

“Yes, I do.” Shaw answered. “I’m very good at it.”

Gerald ran his eyes over her body appreciatively. “You certainly look fit . . . for the job.”

Before Shaw could decide whether to punch him or keep flirting, Gen ran up to them. “Guess what?”

“You’ve decided you want to see the Tower of London next?” Shaw ventured.

“No, we’re doing Buckingham Palace, remember? After lunch?”

“Right.”

“It turns out Mr. Lee is going there too! And he invited us to have lunch with him and he’s going to teach me some Mandarin!” Gen was bouncing a little again. “Do you know any Mandarin? Bea does. She’s been learning it.”

Shaw shook her head. “Mandarin is not one of the languages I know.”

“Ah. But lunch with Mr. Lee, and then Buckingham Palace!”

“Okay.”

Gen bounced off to go ask more questions.

Gerald looked at Shaw. “Languages, plural? Brains and beauty. Lethal combination.”

“I could definitely kill you.” Shaw replied.

“Really?” Gerald moved a little closer. “That’s promising.” The guide began ushering them into the next room and Gerald managed to be close to Shaw for the rest of the tour.

 

\----------

 

Shaw allowed Gerald to flirt with her more over lunch. The others were too busy talking about Mr. Lee’s business in Britain, though if Shaw knew Root, she already knew more about his business than he did, courtesy of the Machine. It didn’t really matter, Shaw supposed, since Gen was having a good time. The young girl was listening closely and asking lots of good questions. Root was asking a few questions too, getting very revealing answers. And Root was frowning slightly at Gerald when she thought Shaw wasn’t looking. They all rode together to Buckingham Palace, where Shaw had to give up her guns again. Entering the building, Root drifted towards Shaw, and bent down to whisper in her ear as they walked through the doorway. “Mine.”

Shaw smirked and lightly nipped Root’s ear as she whispered back. “All yours.”

They stood together in the foyer, watching Gen examine the paintings on the walls.

“She needs friends, doesn’t she.” Shaw said.

Root glanced at Shaw. Her jaw was tight.

“You’re her friend, Sameen.” Root said, quietly. “You do a good job with her.”

“Yeah, but she needs normal people in her life. People who can talk to her about all the stuff I don’t understand.”

Root opened her mouth, but Shaw interrupted. “And don’t say Harold or John.”

Root closed her mouth again. That was exactly what she was going to say.

Shaw continued. “She likes you. And you’re normal.”

“I’m normal? Really, Sameen?”

The guide called for attention then, and Shaw moved closer to Gen and their number, leaving Root to decipher what Shaw was trying to say.

 

Everything went sideways, (as was to be expected) as they left their tour of Buckingham Palace. They were behind the palace, on the side closest to the park, headed towards their limos, when someone started shooting. Shaw grabbed Gen and pushed her down behind one of the wheels, drawing her gun. “Finally! Someone to shoot!”

Root had grabbed their number and was crouched behind the other car. Root looked over at Shaw. “May I have a gun?”

Shaw nodded and slid her extra handgun, followed by a spare magazine, across the pavement to Root.

“May I have another?” Root made puppy eyes at Shaw.

Shaw rolled her eyes, but passed Root the nano from her ankle holster.

“Stay down.” Shaw warned Gen, then quickly stood up and fired a few shots as she assessed the situation.

There were three masked men ducked behind cars on the other side of the street, two with handguns and one with a rifle. Settling back behind the car, Shaw looked around. People were screaming and panicking and running away, but the expected security from the Palace was nowhere to be seen. She rolled her eyes, and shoved her phone at Gen. “Call the cops. 999. Don’t say anything, just let them hear the gunfire.”

Gen nodded, her eyes wide. Root stood up and fired off a few more shots, which were returned with gusto. Root ducked, then stood up again, firing back.

Suddenly, Root swung one arm around and shot behind her, still focusing her main fire on the men across the street. Shaw looked around to see another masked man twitching on the ground behind them.

Shaw leaned around the car and fired across the street.

As more shots rang out, Root winced and grabbed her side, dropping back behind her cover.

Root’s hand came away bloody.

Shaw looked across the open space between them.

“It’s just a scratch.” Root reassured her, peeking out around the car. She drew her head back as another burst of gunfire flew past them, the men making a move across the street.

Shaw didn’t say anything, but her jaw clenched. She reloaded her gun, stepped out from behind the car and, with six precisely placed shots, dropped their opponents to the ground.

She turned to the young girl beside her. “Get their guns and phones. Use your gloves.” Gen nodded and carefully approached the groaning men. She cautiously picked up the guns that had fallen out of their hands and unloaded them, as Shaw had shown her, then patted them down, pulling their phones (and a few knives) out of their pockets.

Shaw turned to Root and pulled out a handkerchief. She pressed it against Root’s side. “Keep pressure on it.”

Gerald, cowering behind a wheel with his hands over his ears, slowly straightened up. “Are they done shooting?”

“Yes.” Shaw said shortly. “And the cops should be here soon.” Gen walked up with a handful of weaponry and telephones, placing them on the ground next to the car. “Where’s Mr. Lee?” she asked.

Gerald looked frantically around. “I don’t know!”

Root sighed. “Mr. Lee was the one who arranged all this. You apparently overheard something you shouldn’t have. Getting you killed in a supposed assassination attempt was the easiest solution.”

“Oh.” Gerald looked stunned. Shaw quirked an eyebrow. Root tapped her right ear and said “She decided to explain things, now that the problem is taken care of.”

Shaw stared. “Would it kill her to give us this information earlier?”

Root just gave a half smile, leaning her head to one side.

Shaw turned back to Gerald. “Tell the cops what you know, and make sure they interrogate those jerks. And quit your job.”

He nodded, dumbfaced. Shaw grabbed Root, ushering Gen in front of them, and the three quickly crossed the street and disappeared into the park. They caught a taxi on the other side and gave the driver the hotel address. Shaw turned to Root, who was leaning back in her seat, trying to stop the bleeding. “I hate to ask, but the security feeds of the tour. We need to get rid of our faces soon.”

“Already taken care of.”

Shaw raised an eyebrow. Root smiled. “She takes care of her own, Sameen.”

 

The trip was quick, fortunately, and Shaw rushed them from the taxi to the hotel. As soon as they entered their hotel room. Shaw shoved Root down in the chair. “Stay put.”

“What are you doing?” Root asked.

“You’re shot.”

“Does that mean you’re going to play doctor?”

“Shirt off.” Shaw began digging through her bag for her medical kit.

“Why, Sameen! You could at least buy a girl a drink first.”

Shaw glared at her, violently pulling a pair of forceps out of her kit. “Take your shirt off and put your arm over your head.”

Root complied, wincing slightly as the bloody fabric pulled off the bullet hole in her side. “We hardly need all that.” She glanced at the rows of medical equipment and bandages Shaw was laying neatly on the vanity.

“You want to go do this in a hospital?” Shaw retorted.

“Are you propositioning me?”

“Shut up and let me do my job.”

Root subsided and lifted her right arm over her head so Shaw could easily reach the wound. She couldn’t resist moving her leg though, so that Shaw had to straddle it to be in a good position to take care of the bullet hole.

Shaw efficiently cleaned off the blood that was still oozing and reached in with the forceps. Root bit her lip and dropped her head back, moaning slightly. Shaw pulled the forceps out and examined the bloody bullet. “9mm and still whole. Lucky.”

She dropped into onto a cloth on the table and began cleaning the wound more thoroughly. Gen came up and handed Root a cup.

Root blinked. “What’s this?”

“Hot chocolate. You have to replenish your fluids and energy. And it tastes good.”

“Thank you.” Root took a sip.

Gen perched on the edge of the bed and watched Shaw carefully wrap Root’s side as Root finished her cup of hot chocolate. Root stood up. She picked up the remnants of her shirt. “Why is it that every time I’m with you, my clothing gets destroyed?”

“Really, Root? This is just pathetic. You had much better pick-up lines the last time you were shot. Take some painkillers and go to bed.”

“I don’t need any painkillers.” Root protested, swaying a little. “I’m perfectly fine. But if you want to take me to bed, you know I won’t object.”

“It’s a good thing I spiked your hot chocolate.” Gen said.

The corner of Shaw’s mouth twitched up. She grabbed Root’s shoulders, spun her around, and gently walked her to the bed. “Lie down, you obstreperous woman.”

“But She needs me.” Root struggled to stand up. Shaw pushed down on her shoulders and Root slumped to the bed, falling sideways onto the pillow.

“You tell Her that if She needs something done, I can take care of it. She obviously has my number. You are not going anywhere.”

Root attempted to grumble a few more protests but the combination of painkillers and blood loss put her to sleep quickly. Shaw carefully lifted Root’s feet onto the bed, pulling off her shoes, and draped a blanket over her.

“She’ll need something to eat when she wakes up.” Shaw whispered. Gen nodded. Shaw continued. “I’m going to go to the store. I won’t be long. Lock the doors behind me and don’t let anyone in.”

Gen rolled her eyes. “Duh.”

Shaw double checked her guns, pulled some cash from her bag and left. She paused in front of the door until she heard the locks click. She was halfway to the store when her phone buzzed. Sighing, she pulled it out of her pocket and tapped ‘answer’.

“Yeah?”

“Ms. Shaw, I just heard a rather disconcerting report about a shootout in London. Is everything all right?”

“Harold. Why would you assume we were involved in a shootout? There are plenty of criminals in London with guns.”

“Because the report said the men had been kneecapped while attempting to assassinate a visiting official! While I appreciate your restraint in not killing them, I must remind you that you are on vacation. With Miss Zhirova. Your main imperatives are to keep her safe and to keep a low profile.”

“Relax, Harold. Gen is fine. She’s with Root at the hotel.”

“Ms. Groves is there? I am not sure that is a reassuring statement.”

“I swept the hotel. No surveillance, multiple exits, good locks on all the doors and windows. Root’s great with a gun, even when she is shot, and Gen is pretty good with a knife in a pinch. They’ll be fine for the twenty minutes I’m gone.”

“Miss Groves was shot? I think perhaps this vacation was a bad idea.”

“Harold? I think you’re breaking up. I must be going through a tunnel.”

“You know very well, Ms. Shaw, that my phones do not have trouble . . .” Shaw tapped her phone again, cutting off Harold’s indignant protest. She entered the cafe just down the street from the hotel and bought a whole bunch of food. Sandwiches, pastries, exercise drinks, anything that looked like something Root would eat. She hurried back to the hotel and knocked on the door. There was a pause, then the locks clicked open and Gen let her in. Root was still asleep on the bed. Shaw set the food down on the counter and began unloading the bag. She handed a sandwich to Gen, and opened one for herself. They chewed in silence for a while. Eventually, Shaw swallowed and said. “You did good today.”

“Thanks.”

“You all right?”

Gen looked up, a little surprised. “Yeah, I think so.”

“I mean, I’m fine with shootouts, but you know I’m wired differently.”

“I know.”

“So, if you need to talk, or anything?”

Gen smiled. “Thanks Shaw. I’ll be fine.”

Shaw nodded, hastily turning back to her sandwich.

Gen finished her sandwich, then turned to Shaw. “You know, your girlfriend is pretty cool.”

Shaw looked over at Root, who was peacefully curled up with her back to them. “Yeah. I like her.”

Out of sight, Root smiled. There was nothing quite like hearing Shaw admit she cares.

After a few minutes of basking in it, she rolled over. Shaw and Gen immediately focused on her.

“What do you say to a movie night tonight?” Root suggested.

Shaw got up. “As long as it will keep you from moving around too much. Here. Eat this.” She shoved a sandwich and a drink at Root, and settled down on the bed next to her. “But no romantic comedies!”

“All right then.” Root said. “Let’s have Gen choose.”

Shaw grabbed the remote from the side table and threw it to Gen. “Get over here kid. Looks like you’re in charge.”

Gen happily squeezed onto the bed next to them. “Can we go to the gun range tomorrow? And then maybe the Tower of London?”

Shaw shrugged. “Sure.”

Root smiled. “I bet I’m a better shot than Shaw.”

Shaw snorted. “Good money says you’re not.”

“Oh!” Gen said. “That reminds me. You still owe us for the bet about the number.”

**Author's Note:**

> I do take prompts. Hit me at keziahm.tumblr.com if you want me to write something!


End file.
